


we play hide and seek in waterfalls

by eatthatup



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Co-workers, Drama, M/M, Runway Magazine, Slow Burn, Tension, Writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23141128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatthatup/pseuds/eatthatup
Summary: Ten has always been different.From the start, an anomaly, an oddity. He’s a paradox, too, a contradiction. Ten is a sweet, lovable person, and then becomes a heartbreaker in the blink of an eye, an apathetic person that doesn’t care about others’ feelings.Yuta knows. He is aware of this, incredibly, and working with him has never been difficult.Not even if he’s been in love with him since the start.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Nakamoto Yuta, Side Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, side Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62





	we play hide and seek in waterfalls

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii!! this is a commission for @HSunHyuk on tw! thank you so much for commissioning me this challenging work lol it was a lot of work but i made it!
> 
> also thank you @pandawful_ for being a wonderful beta! ily
> 
> [if you want to commission me all the info is here!!!](https://twitter.com/ten__wv/status/1241880594625200128?s=21)

Ten has always been different.

From the start, an anomaly, an oddity. He’s a paradox, too, a contradiction. Ten is a sweet, lovable person, and then becomes a heartbreaker in the blink of an eye, an apathetic person that doesn’t care about others’ feelings. 

Yuta knows. He is aware of this, incredibly, and working with him has never been difficult. 

Not even if he’s been in love with him since the start. 

That day, starting as an intern at the editorial, Ten had guided him and showed him around, so gentle with his words. Yuta still remembers his aroma, an alluring one, and the shape of his nose whenever he’d turn around and display his perfect profile. Ten is sculpted by Gods, Yuta guesses. There’s no other reason, and the enigma he is, comes from the power this gives him. 

Yet, Ten never found out. Never noticed the hurt expression on Yuta’s face as he brabbled about his various partners, every single time. It was getting used to it or give up, completely. So Yuta became indifferent to it, deaf to his painful words. 

A choice that, unintentionally, turned him into one of Ten’s best friends. A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold when he’s scared, arms to wrap around him when his heart gets broken. Yuta is used to it. It doesn’t hurt anymore. 

It’s constantly pulling on a rubber band. And someday, it will snap.

-

Ten stares at him and waits for an answer. Yuta has been finding it difficult to find his words lately. 

“Nah, it’s okay like this,” he replies, and Ten stares at the screen of his computer once again. He writes beautifully, like a poet, like the professional writer he is. 

“You haven’t even read it completely yet,” Ten grumbles, “the one I sent you was a draft.”  
  


“Everything you write is perfect.”

Of course, Ten doesn’t react to it, doesn’t mind the flirting, the teasing words. He’s so used to receiving that from everyone else that he’s become accustomed. And Yuta is a friend to him, one that will praise him without second intentions. 

Yuta just wishes Ten was smart enough. He is, but is too oblivious to realize.

“Thanks,” he then says, eyes fixed on his work. Yuta should be working, too, but is too busy going through the magazine from last month in which Ten wrote an important article, and received lots of compliments for. Yuta has always been proud of him. 

“Y’know, I was thinking of getting another piercing,” Yuta comments. 

Ten raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Where?”

“Here,” he touches his stomach, specifically his belly button, and Ten gasps. 

“Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“They all hurt,” he reasons, Ten nodding and going back to his paper. 

“It’s cool,” Ten replies after a few seconds, “you should do it.”

Whenever Ten suggests something, it’s almost ridiculous how Yuta gets the urge to do it immediately. And if Ten think getting that piercing is a good idea, then he will do it. 

Perhaps Yuta is too in deep now. His heart drowns, slowly, and he’s so aware it begins to hurt. 

-

Hurting in inevitable.

But sometimes Yuta thinks Ten does it on purpose, tells him about his last night one stand, detailed and all, just so see Yuta’s face fall. He’s not one to hide his emotions, and the discomfort on his face is displayed nearly proudly as Ten talks. 

“Not gonna go on another date, though, that was enough,” he says. Yuta wishes someday he will be one of them. Not a fleeting one, a lasting, full of love one. 

But hurting is inevitable, and Yuta’s heart shatters slowly, gradually, word by word. It’s certain that it won’t happen, ever, and Yuta has come to terms with it, sadly.

“You just fuck them and leave?” Yuta asks. He hates that he’s still curious. 

“Kind of.”

Now Ten is starting in the modelling field, a photoshoot that Yuta is in charge of writing about, promote him, and compliment him, basically. So he’s doing his best to not be biased, to not show his feelings about him and do his job correctly.

“What are you writing?” He walks closer to Yuta’s laptop and takes a peek at the screen. 

“About you.”

“Nice.”

The thing is, Yuta seems unable to describe Ten other than an ethereal creature, out of this world—he’s pretty, beautiful, handsome and incredibly attractive. There’s something about him that lures you in, pulls and makes you fall. Like jumping blindly off an airplane. 

Yuta knows. He has experienced it

“You better write nice things about me.” 

He will. Surely.

-

Ten has his own apartment. It’s big and cosy and so _him_. 

While Yuta is still living in his old, tumbledown apartment, he wishes he could stay with Ten, just for one night. See what he does at night, his routine, his sleeping habits. Sometimes, Yuta thinks he might be going a bit insane, but ever since he started liking Ten, there was no way back.

He still remember his first time at the editorial, Ten was a newbie too, but had more experience than him and so showed him around, a wide smile on his face because he was given the job of guiding a new beginner. 

“This is mostly our future workplace, we all write here, there are computers and here’s the main table where we discuss what to write, what to include, and what to avoid, basically,” he had said, opening the door for him. Yuta, now, recalls how it looked nothing like it does in the present, mostly the walls, the table at the centre, it has all changed.

Except his feelings.

Since the start, he had found Ten attractive, there’s no doubt in that, yet the moment he realized he liked him was a rather funny one. Yuta had to write an article about an upcoming brand, and Ten was so stressed he just kept on groaning and deleting ever word that he added, going back to a blank document. 

“Why are you so stressed?” he had asked, intrigued. Ten just sighed.

“Words aren’t coming out, my back is killing me, I have a hangover,” Ten kept on listing and Yuta had to smile at his, well, insignificant problems. 

“I can help.”

“You’re gonna write it for me?” he ha seemed hopeful, eyes glowing. Yuta shaked his head.

“No, I can give you a massage, everyone tells me I’m good at it.”

“Oh, please, go ahead,” Ten already moaned and Yuta felt his stomach do a flip. Maybe that was the first red flag.

He started by his neck, slowly moving his fingers in circles, and Ten _groaned_ . In pleasure, eyes closed, blissful. As he moved down, to his shoulders, he straight up moaned, and didn’t stop, as Yuta’s hand continued pressing on his back, attempting his best to appease some of the pain he was going through—yet then Yuta was the one going through a small crisis. The sounds he was making were turning his face red, a bright one, and his chest felt hot. It wasn’t as if he was _horny_ , but Ten allowing him to show his weaknesses was filling him with butterflies that definitely weren’t there before.

It’s been a gradual fall since then.

Then, a coworker of them had walked into the room, incredulous expression on her face, and simply said. “Get a room.”

That seemed to be what pushed Yuta over the edge, consider Ten as an option, as a partner. He didn’t know, back then, how much it’d hurt. Now he knows.

He knows that Ten is not for him, is unreachable. He’s on another level. 

It’s not hard to process anymore. 

-

As Yuta is used to it, Ten walking into the shared lunch room with a smile on his face isn’t surprising.

Maybe a one night stand, a boy who he played with, a night out in which he showed off and got lots of candidates. But then he sits down beside him, and grins.

“I think I fell in love.”

It wounds him, deeply. Not only his heart breaks, but it falls into pieces as he attempts hard to not show it on his face. Of course, he’s an emotional person, and his lips curve unhappily. 

“What?” He asks, not believing such statement. He notices he’s short of breath, and his lungs don’t fill completely. 

“I met a guy, properly, no parties, and he’s such a sweetheart,” he replies, dreamy, looking up as he’s recalling the moments they spent together. He’s happy, and Yuta is not going to be the kind of egoistic person who ruins others’ cheerfulness just because he’s jealous. 

Yuta will never be able to be that person. And that’s okay, now. 

“Am I speaking to Ten?”  
  
“Shut up,” he laughs, “I know I have a reputation, okay, but I think this is serious. He’s so sweet I just can’t break his heart.”

And Yuta thinks, _what about mine?_

“Seriously?” Yuta pretends, he pretends to be interested, to be happy for him, to breathe evenly. “That’s amazing.”

Ten nods and pulls out his lunch. Yuta has been done for a long time, now, so he leaves, without saying anything, and Ten stares at him weirdly. 

Once Ten apparently finishes eating, enters the room and watches as Yuta writes passionately his article, ignoring his presence. It’s all he can do, really. The news have shattered have bursted his heart open, nearly out of chest, and he tries really hard to hide it.

(Yuta is aware someday he won’t be able to).

“You’re acting weird,” Ten points out, “I’ve never seen you write so fast.”

“Well, I need to finish this by tomorrow,” he explains, and writes about Ten like any other person would do. He’s good-looking, a good choice to model, has the body and personality. That’s all he writes down, and prays it’s enough for their supervisor. 

“Oh,” he says, “well then, I’ll try to stay quiet. Also, I want you to meet my boyfriend.”

The word boyfriend is enough to make his heart plummet to the deepest part of his stomach.

“That fast? And boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he’s the kind of guy you’d get along, and he is, don’t ask.”

Yuta doesn’t want to ask either, this time, he’d rather stay quiet and don’t inquire into it for the sake of his well-being. 

“Wow, so fast,” in the back of his mind, Yuta wishes it doesn’t last, because he’s selfish, after all. Doesn’t matter how much he likes to pretend Ten is his own person and doesn’t deserve Yuta to bring him down. “You sure it’ll go well?”

“I’m sure this time.”

For some reason, Yuta believes him. It doesn’t hurt as much. 

-

They don’t meet outside work that often, only when they go out with their other coworkers for some drinks, and Ten stays by his side until he finds someone to spend his time with. So maybe that’s the reason Yuta doesn’t frequent bars that much, but this time, Ten’s boyfriend is coming along, and he’s not drunk nor looking for anyone, so Yuta is excited to see who this person is, that changed him, makes his happy. (Everything Yuta wishes he could do). 

They finally enter the bar. The guy is taller, looks sweet, like a big dog, and smiles at him as soon as he sees him

“You must be Yuta, right?”

Yuta nods, at a loss of words, and shakes his hand as Ten watches their interactions with stars in his eyes. 

“And you are…”

“Johnny, sorry,” he says, and for some reason, the name fits. His looks, his attitude. He appears to be foreign, and Yuta wonders how they even met. Now, he asks. 

“How did you two meet?”

Ten looks at him and gestures for Johnny to explain.

“At a supermarket, which is funny, but Ten couldn’t make the self-checkout work, so I helped him as a good civilian,” he says, moving his hands, wrapping one arm around Ten.

It makes his face fall, Johnny notices. (And it’s the first time anyone notices, so he doesn’t have an answer prepared. Thankfully, Johnny doesn’t say a word). 

“Why don’t we order some drinks?” Johnny suggests, and now, Yuta nods eagerly. Ten agrees too, and walks over the counter to order what’s seemingly transparent shots that must be either _vodka_ or _tequila_. Yuta doesn’t know which one is worse.

“For our future,” says Ten, “and health. And that article about me being released tomorrow.”

They count to three and gulp it down. It burns, down to his throat, to his heart. He smiles, because in some way, it eases the pain his body is experiencing, staring at Johnny and Ten grinning at each other. What wounds him the most is that it appears to be genuine, real, not a momentary thing that Ten will cry about a week later.

There’s love, and Yuta is unable to find it on his own.

-

#  **Why Ten Is a Model to Know** **  
**_In a few short months, NCM’s star writer has gone from sitting on a desk chair to a runway beginner._

_By_ _Nakamoto Yuta_

Mar. 14, 2020 9:15 am KST

Patrons of the South Korean cafe where Chittaphon Leechaiyaporknul, 24, is holding court over a falafel wrap might be forgiven for not recognizing the modeling supernova, dressed as he is in patchwork trousers, a Mickey Mouse T-shirt and Naked Wolfe vegan sneakers. Doubtless they would also be surprised to learn that, after years of working together, his travel must-have is not the latest lip gloss or ayurvedic tincture, but classic Honey & Apple Twists. “Sometimes I just need some snacks,” he singsongs. But then, Ten, who has been lauded as a 21st-century Zenyang, hails from Thailand, and he’s as down to earth as the northern soil from which he comes.

  
The androgynous NCM model Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul wows in front of the camera. His curly black hair and angular body captivate and entice the lens.

Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul is a fresh face to watch as he begins to model for top brands such as H&M.

Originally from Bangkok, Thailand, Ten; as he is nicknamed, was approached from multiple modelling agencies in Thailand when he was a young child and was in his words “persuaded” to become a model. 

He was a professional dancer for over 10 years and studied Contemporary Dancing. This raw talent provides Ten with a fluidity in front of the camera.

Ten and his brand new career as a model, already planned to walk in over nine shows for Seoul Fashion week, are skyrocketing. Thanks to his ethereal looks, Ten might find a future ahead bigger than he ever expected. 

_NCM Magazine - By: Nakamoto Yuta - March 11, 2020_

-

“It’s amazing!” Ten exclaims the next morning. He’s holding the magazine in one hand and a coffee in the other, and he’s so excited it almost spills. “I brought you this.”

He leaves it on his table, and once Yuta realizes Ten remembered the kind of coffee he likes, his insides become a turmoil. It means nothing, of course, but certain details help his heart build back together. 

“Thanks.”

Ten smiles at him and sits on his chair. “Thank you, for the article, and your kinds words.”

“Don’t thank me,” Yuta says, “it’s true. Soon we’ll see you on the runaway instead of sitting here, writing.”

“Shut up”, he mumbles, “it’s not my thing.”

Yuta wonders how it’s not his thing yet looks so comfortable in camera, like he owns it, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. His facial expressions, his fierce eyes—there are experience models who are yet to achieve that, and Ten seems to be on another level. 

“It could be…”

“I’d rather stay with you.”

He almost chokes. Spills coffee on his precious, white keyboard and looks like an idiot who can’t process such a simple statement. Ten still laughs and helps him clean up.

“Sorry,” Yuta is quick to say, “I just thought you already left me for modelling and your new boyfriend.”

Ten hits his shoulder. “Hey!” He exclaims, “I’ll never leave you, not for modelling at least.”

Yuta rolls his eyes, but his heart beats erratically. He wishes Ten was different. 

(He is, has always been. Out of this world). 

“Also, not for a boyfriend, but I do miss him, and I’ll probably have lunch with him,” he says. Now Yuta breathes. 

“That’s okay.” It’s not. But he won’t intervene, no, Yuta is not selfish. Yuta is not egoistic. He repeats it like a mantra until he convinces himself of it. 

“So, I’ll be leaving, just wanted to bring you coffee,” he comments after turning off his computer and placing his belonging in his bag. Yuta looks at him, puzzled. He’s supposed to work, not matter how many boyfriends, one night stands, hangovers he has. 

“Just like that?” Yuta asks, “not gonna help me with this thing we need to finish by next week?”

“I will write my part tomorrow, I promise.”

And then he’s gone, along with Yuta’s will to continue writing, working, living. It’s sad, that a single person has that effect on him. So he breathes and begins typing again.

It’s fruitless. 

-

Whenever Yuta thinks of an ideal partner, Ten comes to mind.

He’s sweet, caring, smart and loyal, even if he doesn’t seem so. He’s fluent in four languages, and started learning Japanese just for Yuta. It fills his heart with fire, with passion, with _love_. And he still remembers the time Ten told him, and Yuta realized, he was falling way too fast.

“Hey, I forgot to tell you!” He had exclaimed at lunch, munching on his food excitedly. Yuta waited for him. (He always does, he always will). “I’m learning Japanese.”

It made his cheeks go a bit pink, the thought of Ten caring that much for him, and he stumbled over his words until he finally found them.

“That’s—so cool,” it’s what he managed to say, “you can understand me now.”

“I’m a beginner, don’t think too highly of me.”

So Yuta took his chance. “You’re pretty,” he stated, in Japanese.

Ten looked at him, narrowing his eyes. It took him a few seconds, but he didn’t seem to be able to figure it out. 

“I am…” he mumbled. Yuta laughed because he’s cute. 

“Kind of,” Yuta said.. Ten groans.

“This is unfair, you could be insulting me.”

“Who knows.”

And God, sometimes, Yuta wishes he could confess. 

-

Confessing is clearly not an option. 

Not now, nor never. Now Ten is too busy with Johnny, and even if it doesn’t last, his chances are lower than low. Because Ten sees him as a coworker, a friend, a simple person that helps him whenever he’s in need.

”Do you think I’m going too fast?” He’s writing an article about a new trend, and Yuta stares at him for a moment with a raised eyebrow. “With Johnny-hyung I mean.”

“Oh,” Yuta’s eyes go back to his screen. It’s been purely white lately. “Well, I don’t know, if you think he’s the one then go ahead.”

“The one?”

“That one person that makes you happy, laugh, is loyal, and all that bullshit. Basically a _soulmate_ ,” clearly Yuta doesn’t believe in love anymore. Doesn’t believe in destiny nor soulmates as he mentioned. It’s been a problem of his ever since Ten appeared in his life, all handsome and sweet. It knocked it off his feet. Yet the problem lays in the possibilities. 

Yuta knows it’s non-existent, that chance. So he hasn’t dated ever since.

(No one compares, no matter on how many dates he goes, how many people he attempts to meet. It’s futile. Ten is, simply. different.)

“Oh,” Ten says after a moment. “Maybe.”

It surprises him, since they seemed so in love. Johnny stared at Ten as if he had stars in his eyes, holding galaxies, as if his face was sculpted by Gods and he couldn’t take his eyes off him. Yuta relates, of course, except he hides it well, learned how to do it as months passed and he feared Ten finding out. By know, it comes naturally. To not gaze for too long, to not compliment him too much, just the right amount, and to avoid any conversation about love. Like this one. 

“Maybe?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t experienced that yet, I think, so maybe I’m going too fast,” he explains, furrowing his eyebrows. Yuta looks at him and then at his blank document. 

“Let’s get to work,” he proposes, “you’ll distract yourself.”

“You’re right.”

They start writing in silence, the sound of typing filling the room, and as Yuta write nonsense, he can see that Ten is focused, taking it seriously. He admires him, sometimes, how devoted he is to his work, how he gets lost completely once a paper needs to be written, a project needs to be done. He’s always there, and Yuta applauds him

That’s another of his many, many qualities.

-

Johnny is such a wonderful person Yuta doubts a bit of their relationship.

He comes by sometimes, drops some lunch for Ten off and then drives to his works (because he owns a car, clearly), but the moments he has time to talk, Yuta is a bit taken aback by the many topics they’re both interested in. 

“I’m really into astrology lately,” Johnny comments. Yuta gasps.

“Me too! But, I’m a demon, so I’m kinda ignoring that part of me,” he says. 

“Let me guess your sign,” he tells him, all excited about it. Ten looks at them with a smile, but he’s a pisces, so he knows he’s dying to talk about himself. 

“Okay.”

“You’re a…” Johnny begins, “An aries?”

“Nope!” Yuta shakes his head, sipping on his drink, Johnny groans and looks at Ten.

“He’s a pisces, and you two get along so, maybe a taurus?” he attempts to guess, and Ten starts to roll his eyes at their conversation.

“Stop talking about my pisces tendencies,” he mutters, “I already know I’m emotional, okay?”

“I’m a scorpio,” Yuta finally says.

“Oh my God,” Johnny says, eyes a bit wide. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yep,” he confirms, proudly. Except he hates every single aspect of it. “Emotional constipation and all.”

“I’m an aquarius, so I kinda get that,” he says.

“Oh,” Yuta’s eyes shift to Ten for a moment, and then back to Johnny, “I’ve heard it’s a good match. So, zodiacly speaking, you two are soulmates.”

Ten tenses a bit and Johnny grins. It’s not that he did it on purpose, but the relation was right there, and he needed to keep the conversation going.

“I’m sure you’re gonna find a good match soon,” Johnny says, gently, patting his shoulder. Yuta’s heart shakes a bit, because he doesn’t want another match, he doesn’t want a partner, he doesn’t want _love_. 

Maybe it’s the emotional constipation. Maybe it’s Ten falling in and out of love so quickly. Maybe is knowing he’ll never be enough. Yet Yuta, indwardly, refuses it. 

(He does. Admits he’s in love and hates it. Hates himself for it. And, sometimes, Ten for existing.) 

“I hope so,” he replies, staring at Ten. He dares to, in front of his boyfriend, but Ten is so oblivious his eyes focus on the bartender and signals him for another drink. 

“Let’s drink!”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Johnny questions, worried.

“It’s never enough.”

The way Ten looks at him throughout the night is enough to tell he’s mad. He doesn’t show it too easily, but Yuta can tell, after many time spent together, it’s easy to discern his emotions. 

Next morning will be hell. 

-

“Why did you tell him that? Ten yells, and Yuta is glad they’re alone in the room.

“Sorry it just seemed—right to say, that’s where the conversation was going. I didn’t know you’d get this mad,” he tries to explain. Ten continues glaring at him. 

“Was _soulmates_ the right word, really?” Ten keeps on shouting and Yuta fears someone might overhear. “After I told you I wasn’t sure, that I didn’t exactly thing we were—in love.” 

His hand goes through his face in frustration and then stares at his hand.

“Maybe it’s just a matter of time,” Ten says, “and maybe he’s the one. But rushing is just—not what I need right now.”

“Okay, sorry, I apologize for my mistake.”

“You sound like you’re being sarcastic,” he rolls his eyes. 

  
  


“I’m not. I wish you happiness with him, and a good future, and to realize he’s the one,” Yuta replies, heart beating slowly, rupturing. Every word opens a wound, puts salt on it, reminds him of his worst thoughts. Not being enough, not being able to forget about him, supporting him even as Ten has played with his heart so many times.

Played with it like a toy. 

Yet seeing him smile is enough. It brings back the color to his face, and his pulse is back to normal, at least.

“Thank you,” he finally says, genuine and sincere, and Yuta hates that he’s able to see this side of him. That it only pushes him deeper. “You’re a good friend and I fuck up constantly, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve happiness, that’s all.”

Happiness, joy, good health, everything Yuta is able to give him, he will. Because love makes you blind, makes you jump off an airplane, makes you land on a deserted island and find your way back. Yuta is lost, a forest that eats him alive. 

“God, sorry for yelling at you.”

“You’re a pisces.”

Ten sighs. Maybe Yuta can endure it. 

-

Yuta cries that night, hugging a pillow. 

He cries, because Ten seems busy, he seems genuinely in love, cheerful, and most importantly, _happy_. So Yuta cries because he’s not able to be the one, the person who makes him so content he can’t hide the smile on his face at work. 

And Yuta is so used to it, he goes to work with a neutral expression, trying not to raise any flags. No one asks, and maybe no one cares, but for the first time, Ten notices. 

“Hey,” he says, pointing it out, “you look like you haven’t slept.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he replies, “just watched a TV show and I guess I forgot to check the time.”

“Damn, next time invite me over,” Ten offers, as if it doesn’t turn his insides into mere mush. “Which show was it?”

“Lost,” it’s all he says, sitting down, turning on his computer. Ten sits by his side and hums. 

Yuta feels lost.

“It’s good. Let’s watch it together,” he offers once again. Yuta doesn’t want to be near Ten in that way, sitting on couch, inside his apartment. His heart won’t be able to endure it, he knows.

“Yeah,” he still agrees, for some reason (because he’s in love), “whenever you want.”

“Well, I have a date tonight,” he says, proudly. “Johnny invited me to a restaurant and I’m slowly falling in love.” 

“Love?” 

“Yeah, love, I can finally say it.”

“That’s good,” Yuta says, and his voice cracks, and he’s so ashamed he begins writing the article that he’s meant to finish by tomorrow. “I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

He begins writing too, at a slower pace, and Yuta wonders how he does it, how he manages to be perfect at every single thing he does. Modelling, writing, dancing. He’s perfect, every meaning of that word. And flawless, Yuta would say, but then he remembers how utterly used he felt and breathes for a moment. His mind eases for a bit, and he focuses on the article.

Ten continues typing. He’s different. 

-

So now, Ten appears to be too in love with Johnny.

Or at least, busy. Because he’s been late to work three times in a row, and their supervisor warned him every time, although he seemed to not care. There’s always a smile on his face when he enters the room. and Yuta doesn’t ask, no one does, no one cares.

(Yuta does. But he’s aware of the answer, so he remains quiet.)

They are working on another article, this time about a new model that’s on her newbie phase, and they’re supposed to promote him just like Yuta did with Ten.

(Ten received many calls after it, and declined ever single offer, with the excuse of liking where he is. Yuta never understood, and still doesn’t, but is glad that Ten is by his side. Even if it hurts.)

The girl is pretty, and poses with a character that they haven’t seen before, so they both agree to write about that. her gazing at the camera, owning it, and the future she upholds. It’s perfect, when they do it together. When they work together, and as their boss revises it, he congratulates them.

Ten wants to go out again.

“Haven’t you had enough alcohol?” Yuta says, it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Nope,” he replies, “let’s celebrate.”

So they do, gulping down a shot of vodka that makes Yuta dizzy for some reason but conscious enough to watch over Ten, who is stumbling over his words. His eyes are droopy, and his cheeks are like apples. Red and round. Yuta reaches over and pinches them, as Ten hits his hand and grumbles.

“Since when do you have puffy cheeks?”

“Since I had a snack before coming,” he answers, finding the right words for some reason.

Another shot slides down his throat, a bit of it slipping out his mouth. Yuta is beginning to get worried, so he sits by his side and holds him. Arm around his shoulder just in case. (He feels bad even by being there, as if he’s taking advantage, but Yuta reminds himself they’re friends first. And he’s supposed to be there always, take care of him, watch him puke if necessary). Ten’s head rests on his shoulder, then.

Yuta’s heart drowns. 

“Y’know”, he begins, but he doesn’t slur as much, “I love Johnny so much. He’s so perfect.”

His heart just drowns, in an ocean, deep down. Until Ten continues.

“But I also love _you_ , okay? Don’t forget that, you’re my _bestest_ friend.”

It hurts, it pains him, it wounds him. How the words friend stay etched in his mind, like a remind him just to hurt him every single day. He hates than loving him isn’t enough, that Yuta will never be what Johnny is in his eyes. 

“Thank you,” Yuta says. “I’m taking care of you so you better love me.”

Ten nods, giggling, his head thrown back now. Their faces are inches aoart. Yuta can see it all. The shape of his lips, his nose, his dark eyes, his perfect eyebrows, the modest makeup that’s only detectable up close. Ten’s eyes close, and Yuta shifts his arm so it moves his head forward, waking him up. There are urges he’s able to control, thankfully. But they stay, and are one of the many reasons he cries silently at night. 

“Oh,” Ten says, eyes opening.

“Yeah, oh,” Yuta helps him stand up, and he almost falls, so he grabs Yuta’s waist and the contact makes his skin burn. “Let’s go.”

Inside the cab, Ten falls asleep, so he’s nice enough to accompany him to his door, making sure he opens it and falls to the couch. Maybe, if he was brave enough, he could’ve tucked him in. But Yuta is a coward, a big one. One that prioritizes his emotions before _love_. Before such a wonderful feeling. 

He’s in love, but his well-being is more important. He convinces himself.

-

They are assigned a project. 

Together, they are supposed to create an entire magazine by themselves, photography, advertisements, different articles, news, and everything a magazine should include. It’s a though one, but Ten is convinced they’ll manage to get through it. 

“I’ll model, you write about it, we find news related to the topics we were given, and then choose who writes about what,” Ten proposes, already turning on his computer. Yuta is not a photographer, he doesn’t have the eye, and they will fail miserably once Ten realizes Yuta can’t write an article that’s unbiased. 

They’re doomed already.

“I don’t know…” Yuta says, “we’ll need to work hard and by that I mean, spend most of our time working on this.”

Ten sighs but nods, knowing exactly what Yuta means

It’s a promise that will be hard to keep, for sure, as Ten has been taking his job less seriously as week goes by, and spends more time with Johnny than sitting on his desk chair, writing, like he’s paid to do. But Yuta still trusts him (he will always trust him, no matter what. It’s Ten’s effect, he guesses). 

“i promise,” he says, “I’ll focus on this.”

Yuta just wants him to keep his words.

-

The first day, Ten arrives late. 

Yuta is a bit disappointed and isn’t afraid to show it, face falling once Ten walks into the room, already apologizing. 

“Sorry Johnny had—”

“I don’t care,” Yuta cuts him off, harshly, “you are here to work.”

Ten frowns at him and curses under his breath, focusing on his own screen and then on the papers Yuta already has on his desk.

“What are those?”

“Our plai,” he says, “a schedule, basically, and you’re late to the first one, so congratulations.”

Yuta is used to being cold, sometimes. Not exactly with Ten, but in general. He has a cold personality that sometimes intimidates people, as he also pushes them away. Yuta is under lock and key, and getting him to open up is a difficult task. (Only Ten manages to, at times, and it only breaks his heart). 

“Stop being so mean to me,” Ten murmurs.

“I’m not being mean! This is a serious project, okay?”

Ten merely nods. It hurts, but his heart doesn’t beat as fast as before. 

He types until his fingers are numb and he’s satisfied with the result, already done with his part. Yuta looks at the schedule and crosses off his name and task. Ten’s remains clean and unmade. 

“I can finish this by today,” he says, “I’ll stay up late, I promise.”

At this point, Yuta doesn’t believe him. Not when his phone vibrates and Ten checks it every five minutes. He’s aware his words hold no meaning, sadly. And he stares at him until it’s time to go. 

Yuta grabs his belongings and leaves. 

-

By the third morning Ten arrives late, Yuta explodes.

“You’re not taking this seriously, at all,” he says, raising his voice a bit. “Do you even care?”

“Of course I care!”

They’ve been fighting so much lately Yuta doesn’t know what they relationship is based on anymore, there’s no support, no loyalty, only broken promises and broken hearts. It’s not friendship, it’s _pain_. 

“Well, you don’t seem to,” Yuta replies, sitting down on his desk chair and ignoring him completely.

“I just need time—listen, we can do this,” Ten tries to convince him, sweet words and all. This time Yuta doesn’t fall, he doesn't jump blindly, he doesn’t allow his mind to trust his meaningless words again.

“ _We_? You’ve been slacking off,” Yuta points out, “I’ve been doing most of the work. I almost look for another model because you’re constantly busy.”

“Well, I do have a life outside work.”

It sends Yuta over the edge.

“Then go enjoy it and leave me alone.”

Once Ten leaves, angrily closing the door, it dawns on him the brawl they just had. A fight, to be exact. There were no apologies nor a happy ending, it just leaves Yuta red with anger and feeling powerless, tired, unable to focus. He hopes no one heard, and starts by crossing off his list before attempting to do anything else.

The look on Ten’s face stays on his mind. His glistening eyes, his rosy cheeks, the frown on his face and his hurtful words.

Once again, Yuta cries before falling asleep. It’s a routine by now. 

-

The moment Yuta lashes out for real is a bit critical.

Life-changing, he would say. A single second in which Yuta’s brain doesn’t process fastly enough what his mouth is saying, and so he unleashes a hidden hurricane. A confession.

It all happens because Ten is twenty minutes late to his photoshoot, and the crew is starting to send looks towards Yuta’s way, as if it’s his fault. Once he appears, red eyes and a mournful expression on his face. There’s a metaphorical gray cloud following him, and Yuta can feel the _tension_. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologizes, bowing to the few people who were kind of enough to help them out, “I’ll work hard.”

So they start. Modelling seems to be in his DNA because there’s no other explanation as to why he’s such a natural. He poses in front of the camera like he owns it, and gazes seductively disregarding completely the state he walked in. It’s a pleasure to watch, but Yuta knows there’s something wrong, and once they’re finished, he approaches him.

“Wanna go to the writers’ room and plan this out a little bit more? Outline it?” Yuta proposes, gently enough.

“No, I’m leaving.”

He huffs, incredulous. The tone he uses, his entire demeanour. It shows he just doesn’t care. And Yuta won’t allow it. 

“Why? You don’t care about this project?” 

“I do,” he says, _states_ , “but I got more important stuff to do.”

Sometimes, Yuta hates him.

“What’s more important than your job, huh? Because we could get fired?” It starts heating up as Ten’s eyebrows furrow and he walks closer.

“My personal life, asshole,” he spits out. Yuta is starting to go red.

“And what’s so important about it? You’ve been slacking off at work for weeks and leaving me alone to do all the work. You’re selfish, that’s what you are.”

Ten gulps, eyes shining.

“Why do you care so much then, huh?” He asks. Yuta doesn’t want to answer. “Because all you seem to do is ask about my personal life, why do you even care?”

Yuta doesn’t respond. He stays quiet and gazes at the ceiling. His cheeks are red, his head is hot, and he clenches his fists.

“Shut up,” is all he says.

“Seriously, hyung, you didn’t care about me being a mess today but care enough now? You’re such a coward, that’s what you are,” Ten continues, keeps on spitting it all out. 

“I care. I care a lot. I care about you and your personal life, we’re… friends, we’re—supposed to care, I—”

He can’t find his words. Ten has no mercy.

“If you care then show me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? Tell me! Why are you so weird around me? Why are you sweet and then cold the next second?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue. So Ten opens his mouth again and the words simply fall.

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you, asshole.”

He says, and regrets it, feels tears welling up, watching as Ten’s face falls. Yuta knows he just ruined everything, and the fact that it was during a stupid, dumb fight is worse. He just lost a friend, a lover, a possibility. Yuta lost himself. 

His heart just drowns. It doesn’t beat anymore. 

“You are—I, listen,” Ten begins. Yuta turns around as to leave. “Don’t leave, let’s talk it out—I’m sure you’re, just, confused, and—”

So he leaves, closes the door on Ten’s face, watches for the last time the disappointment in his eyes and allows a single tear to fall. Because he deserves it, to cry, to be miserable. Maybe he just ruined Ten’s life, Ten’s job. 

Maybe he just ruined everything.

-

Seemingly, he did.

Ten avoids him at work. Has lunch before him and doesn’t look in his direction as he writes and finishes his tasks, given by him. All he does is stare at Yuta’s paper and cross off each one. Yuta gazes at him from time to time. There’s a neutral expression on his face. 

“You guys,” their supervisor walks in, “Jungnam wants to speak to you.”

“Both of us?”

“Apparently,” she says

Not even then Ten stares at him, simply walks in front of him, following the supervisor’s steps closely, and then bows at her as she holds the door open for them. Their boss smiles at them and Yuta smiles back. Ten curves his lips, just slightly. 

“So,” he begins, pulling out a folder with what seems to be a throughout profile on someone. “A new intern will begin working here next week, and I’d like you two to help him.”

Ten nods, Yuta does the same and says, “Of course, sir.”

“I’m guessing he will do well, having both of you teaching him about our company.”

Yuta guesses with the current tension there’s in between them, it won’t be easy, and the poor intern will innocently suffer through it. Ten reads his mind, apparently.

“Sir, I think Yuta-hyung would do a much better job,” he says. Yuta freezes. “I haven’t been feeling good lately, so he can be a good mentor alone.”

Jungnam nods understandingly, and puts the folder aside. “Yuta, you’ll help him.”

“Of course, sir,” he replies, hands sweating, feeling Ten’s body heat so close to him. 

Once the meeting is over, Ten is quick to scurry away and keep on avoiding Yuta at all costs. It makes him feel like a monster, like he’s a disgusting person. It brings back memories he’d rather not recall, and Ten breaks his heart so badly he’s sure it’ll never be the same, no matter who walks into his life, no matter how hard he attempts to fix it.

It was a mistake. And Yuta will need to own up to it. 

-

# Meet the future of Modelling

BY NAKAMOTO YUTA

MARCH 13, 2019

PHOTO: NCMAGAZINE.COM

_In the age of social media, landing a coveted runway exclusive is no longer the sole way for a new face to distinguish themselves during fashion month. While a prime spot at Prada or Givenchy will always turn heads, modeling can’t be reduced to a numbers game. In other words: It isn’t enough to walk the walk—you have to stand out from the pack._

_Ten is the one. If there_

_were a prize for best name in modeling, Chittaphon “Ten” Leechaiyapornkul would win, hands down. Elegant yet offbeat, the 24-year-old Thai newcomer made an impression at_

_the last issue of NCM, and received_

__

_multiple calls for various brands. With multiple piercings and an ear gauge, Te_

_n brought a stylish edge to collections like Dazed._

_A travel enthusiast who has been to Japan, India, and America all in the last few months, he headed into modelling ready to explore. “It was my first serious photodshoot, so it was very busy!” he said._

_“I met a lot of cool new people and enjoyed doing shows with the friends I made last time. I’m looking forward to what the future will bring!”_

_Ten will surely hold a bright future, as he mentioned. Future model, Ten._

-

They forget about it.

Or at least, Ten does. He doesn’t avoid his gaze nor casual conversation, although they don’t talk nor mention, at all, what happened the other night. To Yuta, they seem like strangers. 

“Is it good enough?” he asks, pointing at his screen where the article about Ten is complete. Ten simply nods.

“Yes.”

He wasn’t expecting much. Yet it squeezes his heart. 

Yuta stares at it too long. Analyzing each word and wondering how he still managed to compliment Ten when they’re ignoring each other, avoiding talking, and Yuta _confessed_ . But it’s work, after all, and Yuta is not one to do his tasks half-way, once he sets his mind on something he has the _need_ to finish it on time. Because he doesn’t slack off, doesn’t have a private life, doesn’t spend time with a special someone. 

Yuta is a loser, he’s aware of it. 

“I think the newbie is coming today,” their supervisor says, head peeking out the door, “don’t scare him off.”

They both giggle and then stare at each other, deeply into their eyes. It’s a single second, a single moment that makes goosebumps arise on his skin. Ten is the first one to look away, clearly. 

After about half an hour later, someone knocks at the door. Yuta is the first to stand up, so he opens the door and greets the person with a wide smile. A blonde, scrawny guy walks into the room, bowing. They both bow back and Ten appears to be uninterested (Yuta wishes he could say something, scold him for having such an attitude, but all he can think of is Ten yelling at him, Ten’s eyes lacking light as Yuta confessed. So he lets him be.)

“Hello,” The new guy greets, “I’m Sicheng.”

Then Yuta notes he’s chinese and grins, raising both eyebrows. “You’re chinese?”

“Yeah!” Sicheng replies. 

“I’m sure you will do well,” Yuta says in Chinese. That’s one of his few remarkable skills.

“Oh,” he seems surprised. Ten now stares at them, frowning. “You speak chinese?”

They continue talking in Chinese, as Yuta shows him around, allows him to take a peek of their next article and Ten’s photoshoot. The room doesn’t have much to actually show, so they leave and Yuta reveals their beloved lunch room, where they rest most of the time.

“Don’t be scared of eating alone,” Yuta tells him, “you can sit with me.”

“Thank you,” he smiles. He’s pretty, Yuta realizes. Soft features and sharp eyes, he’s attractive, and Yuta is sure he will have a nice future in the company. (Then his brain adds: not as pretty as Ten, not as attractive, not as talented or smart. It’s always a comparison). “I have a question, though.”

“Oh, tell me,” Yuta says.

“Who’s the guy that was sitting at the writers’ room?” In Chinese, he asks. 

Yuta doesn’t know where to begin. He’s different, an anomaly, an oddity. He’s a paradox, too, a contradiction. Ten is a heartbreaker and then a delight, a ray of sunshine. He’s the one person Yuta’s been devoted to for more than a year, he’s the person he confessed to, fought with, and then broke his already fragile heart. Ten is his best friend, and maybe a soulmate, too. But mainly, Ten is his coworker. 

“My coworker, Ten,” he replies, “he’s very moody so don’t worry about him,”

Sicheng giggles and Yuta likes that he covers his mouth. (Ten doesn’t, shows his mouth, laughs loudly, his eyes crinkle). 

“Shall we continue?”

“Yes, please,” Sicheng answers. 

It goes well, and for the first time, Yuta doesn’t think about Ten. 

-

Yuta becomes very attached to Sicheng.

Maybe it’s his cuteness, or the fact that they can talk in a complete different language and no one will understand. Perhaps because he’s new, and Yuta likes being a teacher, a guide. Yuta doesn’t question the reason, as long Ten is out of his mind. 

Speaking of Ten, he seems to be in a better mood, and greets them both with a slight smile, introducing himself.

“I’m Ten,” he says, “I’m sorry about yesterday, I should’ve introduced myself.”

“Oh!” Sicheng exclaims, “don’t worry, Yuta already told me. A pleasure to meet you.”

Ten glares at him. Yet there’s no malice in his eyes, no more resentment. “Oh, that’s fine. Still, I’m glad you’re here, hope Yuta-hyung was a good guide.”

Yuta is having a hard time processing the situation. It’s like two different worlds colliding. 

“He is, thank you guys,” he smiles back at Ten, and the conversation is over.

There’s an unused computer in the room from the last intern, so Yuta turns it on and gestures for Sicheng to sit down. Showing him around the applications and different networks they use, which are not difficult, but the look Ten send his way is making his heart beat faster, his palms sweat. It’s not Sicheng, it’s not their hands touching as they both grab the mouse at the same time, nor his voice so near his ear. 

It has always been Ten. And nothing will ever change that.

-

“We need to talk.”

That’s the first thing Ten tells him as he sits down to have lunch.

“I’d rather we don’t,” Yuta replies, cold. He’s not, he’s warm, and he wants Ten to be his best friend again. 

“Hyung, we are coworkers,” he says, “and friends. Let’s talk.”

Yuta already feels his skin crawling as his heart becomes smaller, his chest squeezing it. He still doesn’t understand how Ten can have so much power over him.

“Okay,” he finally agrees, “but not here.”

At the room, where they so comfortably write, the air feels dense. Thick. It presses down on his body and makes it harder to breathe. Just staring at Ten is enough, his eyes, his mouth, his entire remorseful demeanor. He knows the conversation they will hold, and Yuta doesn’t know if he’s ready. 

“Say it.”

“It's not about—”

“I know you,” Yuta interrupts. “It made you uncomfortable, you wouldn’t talk to me, you acted like a child.”

“I know I acted like an immature asshole, okay? No need to remind me,” Ten says, rolling his eyes. He’s still the same. “But I wasn’t uncomfortable.” 

“I—huh?”

“I was mad and surprised that you hid it from me for so long, I don’t know, it _is_ a big deal, hyung,” he explains, “and now… I don’t know, I feel replaced, my stomach hurts, I feel like you already got over me and I feel like shit, y’know? I’m being selfish.”

He is, but God, Yuta doesn’t mind. He doesn’t care because he can breathe, finally, his heart’s pieces comes together, and it somehow frees his mind of gnawing thoughts.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Sicheng,” he says his name in a reedy voice, “you two are glued to the hip. And you just—left me.”

“I—what? Left you? Are you _jealous_?” Yuta asks, surprised, “or you just want me to be after you to heighten your self-esteem?”

Yuta knows he’s being harsh, but perhaps this time Ten deserves it, deserves someone to tell him the truth, face to face. Even if it hurts him, too.

“And what if I am?”

He trembles a little.

“What?”

“Jealous.”

No matter how hard Yuta attempts to suppress it, forget it, delete it from his mind, Ten is always there. Every word and look. 

“Seriously?” With an incredulous stare, he asks, “are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not,” and he _dares_ to smile, “I know I ignored you. But we’re friends, and—”

“You don’t get to say that, Ten,” he stops him, “not after doing what you did. It hurt. If it bothers you so much then go spend some time with Johnny, since Sicheng can help with the magazine.”

Ten gasps. “I finished yesterday,” he says, “and I broke up with Johnny before the photoshoot.”

“You just want me to pity you.”

“Not at all,” Ten says defensively, “you can call me selfish, an asshole, you can even not forgive me. It’s okay. But I needed to get it out.”

“You’re an asshole,” Yuta then tells him, “and you’re being selfish now, and you slack off at work to meet up with other guys, and you break my heart constantly and—I still love you.”

Ten’s eyes glint, lips curving, he moves closer to him, and stares deeply into his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

  
  


-

Now things change, in a good way,

Ten goes back to his usual, teasing self, and weirdly stares at Sicheng every time he approaches Yuta for help. Still, their interactions remain as ordinary as before, and Yuta’s heart begins to gradually heal. 

“I think our magazine did well,” he comments, and Ten smiles.

“Of course it did, my face is in it,” they both laugh, like before, like always. And now it doesn’t weight at all. 

Yuta feels free, for once. 

“Yuta, can you come help me?” Sicheng asks in Chinese and Ten frowns. Without replying, Yuta stands up and heads his way. He seems to be having problems with their writing application, so Yuta explains to him how to use it, in Chinese too, which makes Ten send daggers his way, making the back of his neck burn. It’s almost funny, how Ten disregards his work completely just to peek at what Yuta and Sicheng are doing. 

“You can use it like this and it’ll show the wordcount at the left of your screen,” Yuta explains. 

Once Sicheng understands, he smiles cutely at him and bows. His blonde hair is a bit messy, so Yuta fixes it and Ten turns around instantly. 

(It makes him think, how Ten’s hair is softer, how his smile is brighter, how he asks for help in a childish way that makes him laugh, how he just doesn’t compare. Sicheng can be the prettiest person in the world, and Yuta’s eyes would remain on Ten)..

Ten is different. 

-

Definitely, things change, because Ten won’t leave him alone now. 

Always sharing lunch time, talking excessively during break. It’s as if he’s trying to prove something, and Yuta is unable to understand it, understand him. But he plays along, of course, won’t waste any possibility of spending time with Ten. 

Though, Sicheng begins sitting down with them during lunch too (per Yuta’s request) and there’s no way he doesn’t feel Ten glaring at him. 

(Yuta doesn’t think it can be that serious. It’s just friendship). 

“Oh,” Sicheng speaks up, finally, “did you know they’re holding a party for the company’s anniversary?”

Ten’s eyes go wide. “A party?”

“At a beach, I think.” 

Yuta thinks of pretending he didn’t get an invitation, yet Ten ruins it. 

“You didn’t get an invitation, though?”

“Oh,” Sicheng mumbles, “no, I don’t think so, our boss just told me.”

They both breathe, and Ten’s cheeks go a bit pink from his immature behaviour. “Asshole,” Yuta mouths at him. 

Of course, Sicheng had to be one of those fearless, direct people. “Does he hate me?” he asks in Chinese. Ten waves at them.

“No, he’s just kinda jealous, ignore him.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Sicheng replies, “I didn't know you two were together, I can tell him it’s just a misunderstanding and—”

Yuta’s hands are shaking.

“No, no, we’re not,” he clarifies, “just ignore him.”

So Sicheng smiles widely and waves them both goodbye, grabbing his empty container and leaving. Ten is quiet for a moment but he’s tapping his fingers on the table and Yuta just _knows_. 

“He just asked if you hated him,” he tells him. Ten narrows his eyes.

“Really? Why would I?” It seems like Ten is completely unaware of the way he stares at them whenever they’re together. 

“You literally glare at him all the time,” Yuta says, “maybe try being kinder to him.”

“Well…”

Yuta smirks. “Or you can learn Chinese.”

“Don’t challenge me.”

“Just saying.”

-

A dark, starry night is when Yuta confirms that Ten is different.

At the beach, everyone from the company is reunited at the main table where the food is, stealing some snacks, chatting in small crowds, drinking what seems to be champagne (which Ten should stay away from). Yuta greets everyone who he knows, or pretends to know, and reaches the table to grab something to eat. Sicheng is in front of him.

“Hey,” he says, “how are you doing?” 

“Fine,” Sicheng replies, a small smile on his face, “y’know, Ten apologized to me.”

“What?”

“He said he was sorry for, I think he said glaring at me, and being mean overall,” He tells him and then laughs, “I didn’t even notice. But it’s nice of him.”

It is. Almost out of character, Yuta would say. 

“Well, that’s good, I hope you enjoy the night, and make good friends,” Yuta says.

“I will! I met a Chinese guy and we were just talking.”

“Then go, dumbass.”

It feels right to call him that, like a friend, like the one he lost.

“Okay!”

For the rest of the night, Ten doesn’t seem to be present, until someone is grabbing his shoulders and turning him around.

“Hi.”

It almost makes his heart burst out his chest. And then he looks at Ten and it does, it beats erratically, he goes back to being a mess as before, because there’s slight makeup in Ten’s face, and he’s wearing black skinny jeans with a simple white shirt that highlights his physique. It feels like a dream. 

“Wanna eat something? Drink?” Yuta offers. Ten shakes his head. 

“Let’s go to the shore.”

Yuta is definitely dreaming, because a extremely good-looking Ten is inviting him to walk along the sea, under the night sky, and his heart beats so fast he’s scared it might just stop. 

“Okay… Are you drunk?” 

“No, asshole, why having fun means being drunk?” Ten asks, already grabbing his hands and guiding him outside the zone people are gathered. 

“Sorry, but—”

“No buts.”

So Yuta remains quiet until they reach the darkness of the shore, although some light from the main area illuminates them, the sea is a dark, engulfing mass of water that Yuta doesn’t dare to even get near to.

“Oh my God, are you _scared_?”

“No,” he says, “shut up.”

“I’m going in.”

“Ten!” Yuta exclaims, “are you insane?”

“A bit.”

He takes off his shoes and allows waves wash up to where he’s standing, wetting his feet, he looks up and stares at the sky with his own stars in his eyes. Galaxies, Yuta thinks. 

“C’mon, you’ll catch a cold,” Yuta holds his waist and leads him far from the water, near where there’s enough dry sand to sit down. They do, side by side, and gaze at the clear and black sky together.

“Y’know, stars remind me of you,” Yuta tells him, “because they are so powerful but sometimes insignificant until they, like, explode, and become a show for everyone to see.”

“I see you’re a poet,” Ten adverts his gaze just to stare at him, and Yuta gulps. 

“I mean, I had to write articles about you.”

Even if it’s dark, Yuta can see how Ten blushes, and it makes his insides turn into mush. The situation overall is starting to overwhelm him.

“They were great, y’know,” he says, “you complimented me so much. I don’t deserve it.”

“You do, trust me.”

It’s silent as they stare up at the stars, the many white dots in the sky, Ten’s eyes shining, he looks interested, and so Yuta focuses on each one of them. He doesn’t notice Ten moving closer. 

“It’s cold.”

“Is it?” Yuta asks. 

“Yeah, I didn’t bring a jacket, fuck,” he curses under his breath.

“C’mon,” Yuta opens his eyes. Ten doesn’t overthink it, he fits right in. 

“Y’know, I thought a lot about the one,” he says, “the one, my soulmate. I think I can see it.”

His heart shatters, sadly. Of course it couldn’t last too long.

“I’m glad,” Yuta congratulates him, a lump in his throat. 

“You should be.”

“What?”

Ten stares at the sky once again and there’s an universe in his eyes. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It startles him so much he freezes. For a good six seconds he doesn’t blink nor move. It has to be dream. 

“Don’t mess around…”

“Can I kiss you, hyung?”

Yuta simply nods. 

Once their lips come into contact it’s as if every cliche becomes real. There are fireworks. butterflies, sparks, fire. Yuta feels it all in a single second, smells Ten’s perfume and realizes it isn’t a dream. It’s very real, and Ten is the one to shift positions and stand straighter as he was lying his head on Yuta’s shoulder before. He slots their mouths together and moves just slightly, slowly, allowing Yuta to relish in every second of the kiss, on the taste of Ten’s lip balm, on the sounds they make as their lips slide together. It should be off-putting, but it gives Yuta a burst of adrenaline, stamina. He becomes brave enough to hold Ten’s neck in place and deepen the kiss, attempting to avoid leaving any sand on his body. Soon enough, they are out of air, but Yuta’s still processing it by the time Ten is giggling.

“Wow,” he says. 

Yuta has no words.

“Why did—why did you do that?”

“Because I like you, dumbass, because I think you’ve been the one I was too busy ignoring.”

“Don’t say stuff like that If you don’t mean it.”

“I mean this.”

Ten is different. 

He kisses him again, this time pushing him until his back hits the sand, and he sits on his lap with a smirk on his face. Yuta can feel his lips already becoming numb, but keeps on for the sake of making the best out of this experience just in case it isn't real, and he’s dreaming at work. It’s when Ten bites his lips and he feels blood rushing downwards that he puts a stop to it. 

“Ten…”

“Sorry, got carried away,” he excuses himself, still smiling. It’s a genuine one. 

“You think the stars saw us?”

“They see everything.”

Ten is a star. A galaxy. He’s complex and a kryptonite. Ten is everyone’s weakness and Yuta’s downfall. He’s the universe.

Ten is just different. 

**Author's Note:**

> [if you want to commission me all the info is here!!!](https://twitter.com/ten__wv/status/1241880594625200128?s=21)


End file.
